


Cascade

by atmospherical



Series: Raven's Nodes [1]
Category: Kamen Rider - All Media Types, Kamen Rider Fourze
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, F/M, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28457703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atmospherical/pseuds/atmospherical
Summary: A vision is a strange thing, and even more so when Tomoko, as a Truth Teller, let the past, present and future bleed into her senses all the same. The cards spoke to her of a man with dark, dark eyes entering her little shop during one full moon. Every now and then, Tomoko didn't understood love but when the cards speak to her the same way they did to her mother, they gave her a name of a man – a name that represents the falling star, a meteor.
Relationships: Nozama Tomoko/Sakuta Ryuusei
Series: Raven's Nodes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084400
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Cascade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moeblobmegane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moeblobmegane/gifts).



Sakuta Ryusei never believed in luck, let alone coincidences. He was and has always been a man of facts, one who doesn't allow himself to believe in the unseen forces hidden within the deeper layers of the universe. To venture forth with a set of blind beliefs in his grasp that there are, in fact, some kind of secret energies – whether cosmic or supernatural – in a world he is a part of was never programmed in his mind. The soul of a trained agent within him would never allow it, not for a second.

Yet there he stood, a dark blue-almost black business card embossed with the pattern of a moon in his hand. He couldn't believe himself either the moment his feet betrayed his principle. They had pushed him into the capsule cabin of a train, leading him to where he stood now – a dim antique shop surrounded by colours and materials of oak wood, the smell of sandalwood and pine cones dancing in the air as he took one step, two steps _towards_ the entrance.

Ryusei paused. He wasn't sure why his feet would betray him like this. His eyes, they were focused on the fading words on the square of a glass panel against the door. The words seemed to fade and for a moment he thought they had jumped and juggled and played tricks on his eyes. He blinked, pinched the spot between his brows and blinked again, blaming it on the stress and exhaustion from all the workload he's been assigned to lately. Silently, he prayed for this mission to be the last so he could at least get some sleep before returning back to the field again.

The card in his hand grew warmer despite the cold of winter snow casting ghost flakes on his hair. Not wanting to let himself freeze to death, Ryusei gave in and reached out for the door knob. Upon doing so, the door creaked and squeaked, followed by the low chimes of an old cowbell and the welcoming, alluring smell of burning incense.

Behind him, the juxtaposition of overlapping alphabets on the glass panel of the door he just passed through had rearranged himself to form two words: Raven's Nodes.

–

A vision is a strange thing.

There are two types of visions Tomoko sees in her life. One that unfolds itself into truths that will either occur in her current timeline or elsewhere in a parallel world most would disregard as children fantasy. The second is a vision of secret codes gifted to her in fragments, the kind she'd have to decipher and decode because her clients do not possess answers the way her eyes see them. Every other day, someone would walked in through the same old door with questions floating in their mind, heart so big they're about to burst from the hope buried within, their faces wishful as they sat down and demanded answers from Tomoko and her cards.

Most days, Tomoko had no trouble taking in favours. She'd shuffle her cards, lay them flat on the table and gave her clients half-truth of an answer. Like the ocean, some truths are better off hidden, shielded by the universe and its tight arms. When her clients demanded for more, though, Tomoko would often tell them that carrying the entire weight of truth (the past, the present and the future) is equivalent to shouldering the load of half the universe. They thought she was being dramatic, defined by her job as the truth teller. Tomoko just smiled, warm on the surface but cold and haunting underneath, and told them whatever they asked her to. They are, after all, her clients.

Tonight, she once again sat in her usual spot by the shop. The lights in the shop are dim, as they should because brightness and Tomoko just don't get along very well, and everywhere she turned, she'd be facing at least one plant. Her friend Koyomi, who is also a truth teller in her own jurisdiction, once compared Tomoko's little shop to a miniature botanical sunroom, albeit darker than how an ordinary sunroom should operate. For Tomoko, however, she found it easier to look at things in low light. It helps sharpen her senses, she once said, especially now during the full moon

Tomoko shuffled her cards again and laid them on the table before her. She had been doing the same thing three times now and still she sees the same shards of visions – of a man in all dark blue, his hands in gloves the same shade of blue as his suit; his hair, dark and messy and razor-cut, a curtain to his forehead. Tomoko failed to make out a face out of her visions, something she usually could do just fine. When she closed her eyes shut, she could see a pair of dark, troubled eyes yet the face remained a blur.

The cards before her remained quiet. It didn't seem to Tomoko that they're going to help her answer her questions. It's days like this that Tomoko regret ever shuffling her cards, because then if her visions do not manifest themselves to her in real time, she'd go to bed feeling anxious about them.

The cards, however, never lie. They may change, sure, but they don't lie. Tomoko believes in what she sees, even if they confuse her occasionally. For all the practices she had done from when she was five and surrounded by a family of psychics, Tomoko's senses are no longer that of a novice. Perhaps her mother was right about her talent, that she was born for this job, a siren to all the seekers in the world looking for someone to help them navigate the unknown.

She could only hope whoever's about to walk in through that door tonight is a seeker she could provide answers to.

–

The first thing he could think of was how dark the shop presented itself to him. The second thing would be the eerie silence haunting his mind, metaphorically speaking. The third was the sudden jump he made when the sudden sound of flapping wings knocked against the iron of its cage. For someone so trained, Ryusei had failed to notice a raven – a live, breathing raven bird – staring at him, its eyes glistening in the lowlight of a room he noticed soon enough was filled with plants, plants and more plants.

The raven croaked loudly, thrashing in its cage wildly. Ryusei took a few steps back, his face muddled at the noise. What followed next, though, was the sound of heels clacking against the floorboards beneath his feet, a signal that someone (probably the shop owner) approaching.

"Hello there, I've been waiting for you."

Ryusei turned around and was almost startled at the sight of a woman not much older than he was. Clad in black from head to toe, he watched her unlocked the cage where the raven sat, now no longer making any noise, its eyes observant and sharp and bewitching. By then, he guessed that she's its rightful owner.

"I'm sorry for the noise. Kijima isn't very good with strangers. I've been trying to teach him some manners but to no avail," she chuckled, a laughter that somehow sounded both alluring and hypnotising to Ryusei, "ah, my apologies. How may I help you, Sakuta Ryusei-san?"

Puzzled, Ryusei's eyes quickly scanned himself, almost doubting his own confidence of not displaying anything that might gave him his identity. He's part of the interpol, for god sake! He should never walk around with his identity exposed to the naked eyes.

There was no ID attached to him, not a single trace or speck of clue.

"Don't worry Ryusei-san, you don't have anything on you that might gave your identity away." when he looked up, her eyes were focused on him, almost as if she's reading him from the distance between them. Ryusei felt the mystifying sensation radiating from her dark, dark eyes. He looked away, not wanting to be pulled in by whatever kind of grip she had on him.

"I know the people who walked into my shop, Ryusei-san." she pet the raven in her hand, ignoring the bird's refusal to be adored.

"How?" was the only response Ryusei could say.

"Oh, it's no big deal. We always know the names of the people who enter our shop, Ryusei-san."

 _We?_ Ryusei surveyed the shop and watched every corner like a hawk, thinking whether or not he should be prepared for a fight or an ambush if it comes down to it. Mentally, he cursed Inga for telling him to visit this strange, strange shop. She even told him that _'the store owner is very skilled, she might help us find leads on this missing person'_ and Ryusei, wanting to have things easy for once just so he could get some good night sleep, had obliged.

"No one's going to ambush you, Ryusei-san. This isn't that kind of place," she (whoever she is) frowned, "you're here to find answers and I'm here to help you find them. Come, the moon is bright tonight, it's going to help us get better readings tonight."

Ryusei felt himself going insane. If at first he thought Inga was being superstitiously stupid for believing in the power of divination, he too should be laughing at himself at this point. A voice in his mind told him to walk away (the door is right there! Just push it and go and never return!) yet he's curious, _oh so curious_ that he just couldn't – _wouldn't_ reached for the exit.

So instead, Ryusei followed the peculiar figure and her pet raven deeper into the shop.

–

Tomoko is used to strangers staring at her like she's not right in the head, like her words are based on lies and deceit and hallucinations solely created out of grief from the aftermath of her mother's passing. She's used to people looking at her with fake sympathy, sadness on their face but never reaching their heart because they never meant it at the slightest. She memorised the things they told her, things she could repeat verbatim and correct afterwards – _psychics are only a manifestation birthed by the perfect illusion if you choose to believe that you've known everything the world has to offer._

Having non-believers gape and gawp and gawk at whatever 'mojo' she's doing is old news. Having non-believers gaze at what she's doing with a serious demeanour and the impatient thirst of know-how soaked in curiosity and suspicion is an entirely different thing. Even more so when Tomoko felt a tingle or a spark of some sort, akin to the feeling of something – or _someone_ – igniting the fire in her skill.

Tomoko flipped the cards faced down on the table between them. From the corner of her eyes she stole tiny little glances at the man seated in front of her. Arms crossed and eyebrows knitted, she couldn't fathom if he's quietly scoffing at her or was waiting for her to say something. His eyes, Tomoko noticed, are dark and sharp and distant, like the depth of an unexplored ocean. If ever there's warmth in them, she couldn't really feel it from him now.

"I'm afraid the person you're looking for is no longer with us," a pause, "the body of Kusao Haru has grown cold and his soul is a misguided ghost in search for his best friend." It always sent her reeling whenever the cards revealed truths that, according to Tomoko, are more on the pessimistic side. She waited for his client to say something but he didn't. Instead, he looked up from the tarot spread and sat there observing her. Tomoko shuddered, sensing the electricity flowing through her veins again.

"Ryusei-san, is there anything else you'd like to ask?"

"Just one thing," he stretched his arms (this must be boring, Tomoko thought), "how do I believe you? How do I know that all of these," he made a swirling gesture circling around her flat-lay of cards, "are true?"

She smiled. It's what all of them said whenever they came requesting her help.

"We do not enforce those who seek for answers to believe in what's been handed unto them, Ryusei-san," Tomoko collected her cards, returned them to her deck and stacked them neatly on the table, perfect alignment beside a burning candle smelled of cinnamon bark and sandalwood, "we do not plant anything in your mind, if that's what you're wondering. You're a Seeker, I'm a Truth Teller and that's all there is to it."

"Seeker?"

"A person who seeks for answers, are you not?" Tomoko's lips quirked upwards, sending shivers down Ryusei's spine. He said nothing in return and continued watching her walk around her shop, to her shelves of what looked like a bunch of raw ingredients stocked up in tight-lid jars, some soaked in colourful liquids seemingly illuminated under the moonlight filtering through the glass windows of said little shop, while others crisp from dehydration. Ryusei fought back a cringe at the sight of dehydrated snake skin and lizard's tails.

"Ryusei-san." He jumped in his seat at the touch of her hand on his shoulder. If Ryusei had been wrong in the head, he'd mistook the voice – _her_ voice – ringing beside his left ear as an attempt to lure, to hypnotise, like a siren in the midst of a long stretched ocean. He could feel warmth radiating from her hand, pushing through the fabrics of his suit, enticing and welcoming at the same time.

"Ryusei-san, I think it's time for you to go now."

She's right. He should take his leave. He should have done it before he let her flipped those cards and did whatever she's doing to him right _now_. Impulsively, Ryusei reached out and let his hand rest on hers with the attempt to remove it from his shoulder.

When he did, though, the world around him shrank and squeezed him whole. Everything around him began to shift, some distorted and others scaled disproportionally. Ryusei could see explosions of stars and planets and fragments and voices all at once. His forehead throbbed, head spinning and gut clenching, nausea climbing up his throat and–

_"Ryusei-san!"_

It stopped. He's back to where he was – a little antique shop situated in an alleyway, whose entire structure and decor consist of plants, woods and glass panelings, almost as if he had entered a miniature realm entirely devoid of the busy hubbubs in the outside world.

"Ryusei-san, are you alright?"

"Who are you and what did you– what happened?" Ryusei blinked a few times, half shaking his head to regain lost composure. In a second, his confused expression had been replaced to that of a curious look filled with suspicion, "who are you? _What_ are you?" he demanded.

Head tilted and lips pouting, she watched him through her long lashes and dark brown eye, a finger pressed to her lips as she spelled her name out loud, "Tomoko. Nozama Tomoko, a Truth Teller. I see you have that kind of eyes, Ryusei-san. I'd love to answer your questions but," carefully she approached him with a card in hand, "I think your job's waiting for your return." swiftly, she dropped the card into the breast pocket of his suit.

Disbelief drawn across his face, he could smell the faintest hint of July rain (magnolias and fallen leaves and emerging green roots) and a halo of honeysuckle mist around her silky hair. They're close, so close that Ryusei realised how tense his shoulders had become. He coughed, not wanting to meet her eyes. Whatever reason she had for giving him that card – he'll have to throw it out once he walked out of this place.

"How much is it, for the reading I mean?"

"Oh don't fret about it too much, Ryusei-san," she returned to her table, "it's free."

"It's _free_?"

"You may go now. Let me escort you to the door." By the tone of it, Ryusei knew he should be really leaving now. The patience in Tomoko's voice grew thin and he didn't want to impose, afraid of being cursed (even though, arguably, Ryusei never believed in curses and hexes but it doesn't hurt to just be careful, so he said).

"Thank you, uh... Nozama-san," He bowed a little, right hand pressed against his chest, like a butler ready to serve as soon as he's called. It's a noble habit he picked up from being trained as a field agent, a muscle memory from all the times he went undercover across countries, "I shall be going now and provide you with no further troubles."

"Oh, don't worry, Ryusei-san. I can sense that our paths will cross soon enough," she flashed him a graceful smile, a knowing look in her dark, dark eccentric eyes, "and please, be careful."

His body stiffened. _What did she meant by that?_ Surely it's not like she knew what's going to happen. No, Ryusei does not believe in seers. Fortune telling and tarot cards are one thing, but seers and clairvoyants are complete scams. Of course, he couldn't say all these to Tomoko, considering he owed her expertise.

So Ryusei returned her smile and bid farewell, "thank you, Nozama-san."

–

The air in his apartment is hollow and humid, the ceilings above his head high and pale white and the walls quiet and deafening at the same time. His thoughts raced a million times faster in autopilot, his dark, dazed sleepy eyes seeing invisible questions projected from the insides of his brain. He could hear the sound of his own heart thumping, a signal that he's indeed _still_ alive.

The question is, _how was he still alive?_

A few days after he left Tomoko's strange little shop, he made a call to Inga about the missing person they're assigned to find. Kusao Haru was a timid student of Amanogawa High who, unfortunately, had gone missing for seven days without a trace. His best friend, Kuroki Ran, had been frantically and desperately yelling at the police to find him, only to receive backlash from irresponsible men in uniforms telling her that there are more pressing cases than finding a missing high school boy who probably vanished on purpose.

Missing person cases were never something the Interpol would assign to Ryusei. He is, after all, their best agent and having their best agent track down a missing person is, in their words, no longer an effective 'practice' for Ryusei's skill. As such, they'd assign him to something else entirely more profound. It wasn't until the Interpol's discovery between a long-awaiting cold case and Haru's disappearance that they called in Ryusei and his partner, Inga to finish the job.

His body ached at the memories of a long, exhausting fight. Going separate ways, he had told Inga to find Haru and possibly every other victim locked inside the underground facility. No matter how strategic he thought he was, fighting his way through alone also meant that Ryusei did not have someone watching his back. Skilled as he may be, Ryusei is not bulletproof.

A series of bullets flew to his direction almost immediately as soon as he tried to defend himself from ten (or was it fifteen? Perhaps, twenty?) soldiers charging at him like bloodthirsty bulls. Ryusei turned sideways, praying for the bullet to only harm his cheek and not his entire face.

In that exact moment, when he turned and closed his eyes bracing for impact, he heard cries all around him. The aggressive force of all the soldiers swarming towards his direction stopped. There was no more push, no more orders of command being yelled from one soldier to the next. There was _nothing_.

Slowly, he opened his eyes one at a time. Ghosts of smoke danced before him, obscuring his view of all the soldiers laying flat on the ground. Ryusei was standing at the centre of an instantaneous graveyard. Feeling his legs turning into jellies, Ryusei fell onto his knees, breath hitched and eyes puzzled. Every soldier, armed and geared and loaded with grenades, laid motionless like colourless straw dolls.

Stunned and even more so when he saw smoke escaped from the breast pocket of his suit. Realising what's in there, Ryusei's hand reached for the object hidden beneath the layer of fabric.

 _Tomoko's card_ , his mind whispered. For whatever reason, he had forgotten to dispose it and the card had made a home out of the pocket of his suit. Like the business card Inga gave to him, this card shared the same shade of dark blue colour with the shape of a moon embossed at the centre. Before all this, the moon had been a perfect crescent shape. _Now_ , there's a big hole right there in the middle, its edges black and burnt to crisp. A thought, a stupid one, crossed Ryusei's mind: had this card _somehow_ protected him?

Ryusei shook his head and shoved the card back to where it belongs. There's time to think about all these later. Right now, he needed to call Inga.

Lady Luck had bestowed her charm on Ryusei when Inga called to inform him of Haru's location. He recalled himself running with hope swelling in his chest, deliberate wishful thinking that he's alive and breathing. Be that as it may, wishful thinking is only that – a wish that may or may not be a reality. He watched as Inga knelt by Haru's already-stiff body, lips blue and fingers twisted in a way Ryusei imagined would have made the teenage boy screamed and cried and begged for forgiveness.

"They experimented on him, just like how they experimented on every other teenagers in there," Inga spoke, her every word running dry on anger and painful nerves, "I've called for backup. The forensics and paramedics are on their way. They're going to move the bodies."

 _Bodies._ The insides of Ryusei's stomach churned. After doing this job for five years, he is no stranger to corpses. Still, to have witnessed the number of such young bodies heavily doused in scars and dry blood and damaged tissues – Ryusei wanted to beat the life out of every single one of them (doctors in white with their hungry eyes glinting in madness when scalpels tore the skins of their victims; corrupt businessmen dressed in custom tailor-made suits, Lucifer grins and dirty money burned to ashes, pushing the advancement of a secret, underground project with aim to manipulate and clone human organs) but he couldn't, because the Interpol higher-ups had secured them.

Ergo, Ryusei did what he could: he punched the nearest wall he could reach.

Back in his apartment, he tried to catch some sleep by the couch, not even caring to feed himself despite the grumbling stomach calling for food. After all, it's not everyday that the Interpol excused him to 'take a break and get some rest', probably afraid he'd die from more missions and the heavy burden of bags hanging under his dark eyes. Ryusei couldn't remember the last time he slept soundly, not when his memories were flooded by the long-awaited finale of Kusao Haru's case. Now that it's over, perhaps it's time to really listen to his boss and snatch some sleep.

Unfortunately, it's not an activity his body memorises verbatim. For someone like Ryusei, whose senses are as sharp as a raven's claw, most of the times sleep is more of a pause than a reset. Even now, with a question left unanswered, he wouldn't be able to completely doze off no matter how many times he changed his sleeping position.

After multiple attempts, Ryusei end up with a card in his hand, holding it up high against the light hanging by his ceiling. The big empty hole in the centre stared down at him and Ryusei really wanted to shake the feeling away. The thought of entering Tomoko's little shop again spooked him a little, only because he remembered the flashbacks and rapid fragments thrown unto him the moment her hand landed on his shoulder.

He had refused to admit it (the existence of magic, the possibility of it existing in the first place) but maybe, just maybe, he needed to meet Tomoko one more time to actually clear the cloudy mist clogging his mind.

And then perhaps, he could finally sleep for once.

–

Tomoko grew up with silence. Her mother was a Truth Teller, so was her grandmother. She never knew her father but she heard stories about him as a Seeker, who met her mother at fanciful Paris one sunny day. He was an explorer, an adventurer and he never really settled in one place. Tomoko used to observe her mother sitting by the window in their small home at Kawane-Honcho, her eyes distant and encapsulated by the wonders of the world, shuffled deck of cards in hand. When Tomoko, at age five, asked her mother why she spent all night repeating the same cycle, her mother smiled and told her that she's watching her father from a distance that stretched on for miles and miles long, out into the woods pass the bridge of dreams.

Tomoko didn't understood love but now she does, when the cards speak to her the same way they did to her mother.

Today, she did readings for a few clients including a salary man who wanted to know when he'll find his true love; a high school sweetheart who wears her heart on her sleeve, asking Tomoko whether or not she'll be able to successfully confess to a senior on graduation day and her own friend and old neighbour from Shizuoka, who wished to know about his success as a radio DJ. All of them revolved around the concept of love, doesn't matter if it's romantic, platonic or personal. It's true what they say – love makes the world go round.

Deep in her thoughts, Tomoko failed to notice the leaves of her plants ruffling themselves to make a noise. It wasn't until Kijima, her cursed little raven, croaked that she immediately shifted her attention to the sound of bell chiming. _Someone's coming_ , she muttered under her breath. Somewhere at front, Kijima croaked again, this time flapping his wings impatiently. Tomoko sighed and rolled her eyes, stacking her cards back into their deck before leaving the back room, satin curtains brushing her shoulders when she walked pass them.

She was about to tell whoever had just entered that she's not accepting any more reading for the day. As much as she loves her job, Tomoko needed to recharge and sleep to replenish her energy. Truth Tellers in general require an adequate amount of rest after they're done looking into the past, present and future, unless they own a familiar that may lend them some energy. Tomoko, though, chose not to have any familiar. Instead, she thought it was fun to cast a curse on Kijima, a chatty and pun-loving snob who used to bully her friend JK, and turned him into a raven to somehow guard her shop.

Rubbing her already half tired eyes, Tomoko was about to shove her guest away when she realised that the guest, after all, is worth her time and depleting energy.

"Ryusei-san." The syllables of his name sounded like a merry song in her ears. Ryusei. R y u s e i. Falling star, meteor. Tomoko had grown a slight fondness to pronouncing his name, so it seemed. She wondered if her throwing a small smile every now and then would creep him out. She sure has that effect on people sometimes, even when she didn't mean to.

"Hey." he replied, quite sheepishly and obviously nervous, judging from how he had both hands buried inside the pocket of his pants. This time, he wasn't dressed in his agent suit but rather, in casual civilian's clothing comprising of black trousers, black shirt and denim trucker. Compared to him, Tomoko felt like an old, nineteenth century painting come to live in her layers of chiffon, laces and Peter Pan collar.

"I see the card took some damage." was the first thing she said. Tomoko stifled a laugh at his look of disbelief. She could guess the next thing to come out of his lips, "if you're wondering how I knew, it's because the card is connected to my magic, Ryusei-san. _Ah_ , but I do remember you not believing in magic, don't you Ryusei-san?"

"I don't mean to–"

"It's alright. Not every Seeker who stops by believe in everything I tell them," she found herself staring at the dark pool swimming in his eyes and how enticing they are that Tomoko wanted to get a closer look. Instead, she knew better than to scare her guest away, "come on Ryusei-san, tea's ready."

It was her invitation for some conversation over tea, a gamble of some sort. Tomoko wasn't sure Ryusei would obliged, considering how the first time he came here he was radiating a huge energy of skepticism, disbelief and indifference.

But when he gave her a smile and followed her to the back section of the shop, Tomoko couldn't hide the heat from painting shades of soft pinks on her cheeks. And for what it's worth, she could even feel her own heart skipping a beat or two.

–

Ryusei thanked the perfect timing this time. In contrast to the night he first came here, he could now see the entirety of her shop's interior and decor. The bright Tokyo sunlight filtering through the glass windows that made up majority of her shop's defensive shields against the outside world illuminated every corner, nook and cranny of the place Ryusei's in. The radiance made the shop looked like a miniature sunroom for Tomoko who, judging from how she presents herself with dresses that reminded him of old English Victorian era, fits perfectly like a human-sized doll figure.

Around him he could see jars and jars of materials – or ingredients, he'd say – and little bits and bobs of trinkets ranging from candles to crystals to spices and herbs. Metaphorically, his nerves were curving into lumps of nervous balls. Physically, though, he tried to keep a straight face when she examined the card – _her_ card – her finger tracing the burnt crisp around the giant hole.

"The card protected you, Ryusei-san." was the only thing she said. Ryusei couldn't quite understand if she's annoyed by the fact that her card – a silly, mundane card – was no longer in the perfect shape.

_"Protected?"_

Tomoko's gaze fell sharp, as sharp as the glinting edge of a well-polished knife. She let her eyes stay affixed on his and every nerve in Ryusei's body stiffened to a pause. _Was she casting some kind of curse?_ He was ashamed of it – the suspicion floating in his head – yet part of his training as an Interpol agent is to always put everyone around him under a microscope.

"There is an unseen force in our galaxy, Ryusei-san. Some call it magic, others call it energy. _This_ card had been infused with it – whatever you want to call it," Tomoko teased with a knowing smile, "I cast some into it and it protected you from harm, didn't it? You have a very dangerous work after all, Ryusei-san."

"How did you–"

"Know what you do for a living?" Tomoko sipped her tea, closing her eyes while doing so to inhale the fragrance of roasted tea leaves reaching up her nostrils. Her lips parted and close, unsure whether to continue speaking or give the man sitting before her a simple, vague answer. She knew those eyes very well – the eyes of someone who studied her like she's a patient, like she's out of her mind, "We– I know more than you thought, Ryusei-san." she continued.

Lowering her teacup, the rattling sound it made against the saucer echoed in her shop. Tomoko inhaled, preparing herself for what comes next. Whether or not the man will leave her shop leaving his tea cold and disgusting is a risk Tomoko's willing to take. There is, after all, a limit to how much a Truth Teller can spoil. A secret hang by the tip of her tongue, one that involved her and Ryusei and future. No matter how desperately she wanted to tell him, she must not.

"Ryusei-san, do you believe in fate?" no answer came out of his mouth, but Tomoko could see the spark of curiosity in his eyes. She smiled and pressed on, "do you trust me if I say that the chances of you entering my shop the other night was long awaited? Do you trust me if I tell you that...that I've _known_ you, one way or another?"

She realised she was speaking in riddles and he was not having any of it. Tomoko chuckled at the confusion, the impatience and the way he tried to hold himself together, crossed arms and all. A million questions in his head and one of them was _'who is we?_ ' – a question that made Tomoko bit her lip so as to not listen to her aching heart and tell him everything right then and there.

"I knew you were going to come, Ryusei-san. It's just a matter of _when_. The moment you walked pass through that door, I had an inclination of what you're about to ask. I was right, didn't I?" the plants around them rustled and swished, almost as if they're excited and alive with characters, "I see you in my readings, Ryusei-san. But I also see that you do not believe in any of this."

"I am– that's not– I did not mean–" he opened his mouth, tried to form a sentence but to not avail. There is something in her gaze that made him drown and Ryusei couldn't fathom _why_. He swam in circles, in the pool of darkness and peculiarity her eyes possessed.

"I can show you that I am not lying, Ryusei-san."

Tomoko laughed and her laughter somehow engulfed Ryusei in a familiar warmth, like he's surrounded by rays of morning sunshine during a summer day. It's a mystery to him how she could be haunting and mesmerising at night, breathtaking and summery all the same. Watching her a little too attentively caused him to blush, her laughter ringing in his ears like the welcoming spring breeze in a field of daisies.

Ryusei coughed.

"You're right, Nozama-san. I don't believe in any of this," cautiously, he glanced at her and wishing she's not on her way to hex him, "but I'd love to see it, if you're willing to show me, that is." it wasn't a complete lie. Ryusei likes to think that he's as open-minded as they come, and though he grew up reading about scientific discoveries and not much about the unknown (or worse, _magic_ ), he's not entirely against the _discovery_ part even if that means discovering forces invisible to the naked eyes.

"Please, do call me Tomoko. And it's completely normal to reject a concept that is alien to you, Ryusei-san." she leaned back in her chair, hands no longer caressing the sides of her teacup to keep herself warm. From the corner of her eyes, Tomoko sensed him watching her every move. His eyes no longer gave her images of the lonely, cold depth of the ocean. Instead, it reminded Tomoko of the woods she frequented when she was a child – quiet and comforting and all to enigmatic for her not to get lost in them.

"You said it like you've known me since forever," he chuckled, bringing the tea close to his lips, indulging in the smoky aroma of roasted tea leaves, "when we've just met a few days ago."

Tomoko didn't say a word. Instead, she stood up from where she sat and walked to a particular corner in her shop, faraway eyes facing the glass window admiring the world outside. Behind the barrier, a flock of birds chirped and flapped their wings, soaring into the sky. It definitely was a fine day to be out and about.

So she did the unexpected, turned around and faced him.

"Ryusei-san, are you free today? Would you like to go out somewhere?"

Tomoko did not falter, nor did she ever pause or stutter. Ryusei found himself looking at her again for the nth time today and as he slowly nodded approvingly, the leaves around them rustled again as if expressing joy.

–

Le Gardénia Cous Coussier addressed itself as an artisan tea house situated in the busy hubbubs of Tokyo's Daikanyama neighborhood, designed purposefully with lots and lots of white and glass panelings so as to not veil the cinematic tone of the the neighbourhood's reputation as Tokyo's Little Brooklyn. The cafe itself is an urban life dream, its walls painted beige and interiors in white, the inviting sound of jazz music pulsating from the speakers glued to each corner.

Tomoko pushed the door with a knowing smile. As soon as she stepped inside, she was a black spot in a sea of white sheet. The contrast she brought while wearing black was evidently a sight stealer. Unlike Ryusei, who's standing behind her on purpose for whatever reason that bemused Tomoko, she immediately caught the attention of a woman behind the table counter where an espresso machine and all sorts of ingredients are.

"Tomoko-chan!" came running a woman a few years older than she but not so much that to a stranger, she'd look just the same age as Tomoko. A name tag on her apron – it spelled _'Chiyoko'_ – gleamed under the light. "Ah, you brought a friend! Is he the one?" she grinned from ear to ear. Tomoko hid her face (or the start of an incoming blush), took a step back and gently pulled Ryusei by the sleeve.

"Good afternoon, Chiyoko-san," Tomoko chuckled, "and this is Sakuta Ryusei. We– well, I helped him the other day. He's just a client, like any other I've helped gave a reading to."

Ryusei bowed a little, not knowing what to say. He was still a little too confused as to why Tomoko decided to bring him on a grocery run – or at least, Ryusei deduced it as much, considering Tomoko's little note she just gave to 'Chiyoko-san'. He had assumed she was going to tell him everything – about the card, her so-called magic thing and most importantly, why she always sounded like they've known each other for so long – but what came next was Tomoko's hand absentmindedly around his, pulling him to tag along.

"Don't you want to see _magic_?" she whispered, face a little too close and lips just inches away from his. Ryusei had to fight the urge to lean closer and run his fingers through her locks.

The cafe was a front. It was a trick for the mundane looking for temporary escape from coffees and sweet pastries. What actually happened, though, is entirely different. The back section of Cous Coussier reminded Ryusei of Tomoko's shop, what's with all the spices and herbs collected in glass jars. What's different, Ryusei noticed, was the sight of an iron _cauldron_ supported by ignited woods, vapour of smoke spinning in the air.

Ryusei took a few steps back, almost staggering but never falling down. His back against the wall, he almost lost his cool at the realisation that such things do indeed exist in this world. He's so used to lab coats and test tubes and the smell of chemicals that in this exact moment, Ryusei considered punching himself from this dream.

"Tomoko-chan, it might take a while for me to brew what you asked. Why don't you take your boyfriend someplace else? He looks like he's about to die from worry." Chiyoko teased, earning a scoff from Ryusei (who swore he didn't mean to be disrespectful, that it just came out of the blue and on an impulse).

Tomoko nodded, mumbled a short _'let me know when it's done'_ to Chiyoko and pulled Ryusei out of the cafe's back office and the cafe completely. The door to Cous Coussier shut close behind them with a loud _thump_.

"Sorry for bringing you like this, Ryusei-san. It was an important potion and I had to–" Tomoko paused, realising that Ryusei probably have no interest in whatever she's about to say next. The two of them hadn't planned on where to head next, but Tomoko couldn't care less (so did Ryusei since he never really had time doing this – whatever this is – thanks to his suffocating job schedule). The neighbourhood of Daikanyama stretched on for miles and miles further, allowing the two of them to walk in comforting silence.

After a few steps, Tomoko paused. Turning to face Ryusei, she sighed and said, "Chiyoko-san's a kitchen witch, in case you're wondering."

"Witches don't exist, Tomoko-san." Ryusei replied matter-of-factly. He almost apologised when he saw the hurt in her eyes but it quickly fades into that of a shy smile. Instead of lashing out on him, Tomoko gave him a genuine smile.

"I am a witch though, Ryusei-san," Tomoko took one step, two steps, three steps forward, barely closing the distance between them. If Ryusei even lifted a finger, he wondered if their noses would touch. Tomoko giggled, "each of us possess our own specialty."

"Tomoko-san, you...keep saying _'we'_ – who are _'we'_ and what did you mean when you–"

In that moment Tomoko's smile was gone. She stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief, and Ryusei was once again lured into the siren song pounding in his head, a lost sailor in the middle of the ocean with no sign of where to go next. There's fear in her eyes the same one swelling in his chest. Ryusei imagined himself combusting at the sight of Tomoko's hand reaching out to touch his face – which she did, soft warm hand against his cheek, ever so familiar even though they had just met a few days ago.

"If only you remember..." she whispered. Surprised at himself for allowing someone to get so very close to him like this, Ryusei's hand caught hers but he made no attempt to push it away. So they stood, face to face, in the middle of a busy street, not caring about whoever or whatever around them. Tomoko's eyes – they seemed to be looking for something in Ryusei, perhaps a memory buried far too deep within her reach, or a flicker of a ghost that no longer exist.

"Tomoko-san, please explain all the things you've said. From the beginning." He hadn't meant to sound authoritative to her. It's a bad habit, one he had picked up from all the years he interrogated his preys. Ryusei never wanted to corner Tomoko for answers – and yet he just did, he could see it in her, the reluctance and the doubt and the worries. He could even smell fear all over her.

But Ryusei can be quite selfish when situation calls for it. He's not proud of it, however, whatever hold Tomoko had (or has) on him – he needs to know about them, every single bit down to the final bite. Ryusei understands secrecy better than anyone else but right now, _right now_ he doesn't want to be the one not knowing.

 _"Please."_ His voice was gentle. Firm, but gentle all the same. The exact same one she fell in love with, the exact same he'd use whenever they were in each other's arms. Tomoko withdrew her hand, half regretting the missing warmth from when his hand was on hers. She hang her head, suddenly finding the sole of her shoes interesting.

"Alright," she inhaled, embracing the weight in her chest, "let's start with this, shall we? You have no memories of me, of who I am or what I can do. I, however, possess all. I remember you, Ryusei-san. We've met at some point in our lives and–"

_"And?"_

"And we've loved each other."

**Author's Note:**

> I had to split this into a two-parts because it's getting a little too long. The second part is roughly done, just need some more editing.
> 
> Also, a little bit about the Raven's Nodes series: it's a magical realism AU universe, essentially speaking, and each story will feature and focus on different pairings. So for instance, this first one might centre around Tomoko and Ryusei but the next part won't. Basically, all of them follow the same basic rule of witches existing among ordinary humans and how they form a connection or relationship with specific humans.


End file.
